


Drinking Games

by chylersilva



Series: adventures of aaliya hawke & varric tethras [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chylersilva/pseuds/chylersilva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke attempts to outdrink Varric. It goes pretty much as well as you'd expect. 2 AM Hawke/Varric ramblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking Games

She’s had one drink too many. No, two. Probably, definitely more. She’d lost count hours ago. Damn him and his dwarf constitution. She looked across the table at him defiantly, or at least that’s how she hoped it came across. He was slightly fuzzy, but she could picture him so clearly it didn’t matter anyway. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was keenly aware that she didn’t spend nearly so much time memorizing the features of her other friends most days, but she was too sloshed to really put a thought of that complexity level together right now. 

So instead she tried to focus on catching whatever teasing words he was tossing her direction now, leaning forward to inspect his smug grin. She had the sudden absurd notion that there were so many ways she could wipe it from his face, each idea more creative than the last. She stood up suddenly, thinking it surely brilliance on her part to enact to enact one of these plans. She took one step in his direction and, wow, was that the floor moving or-? 

It was all a blur for a while then, but bits and pieces caught her attention. Strong arms around her waist, helping guide her legs as they battled against her any sense of stability. “Shit Hawke, you and your goddamn competitive streak.” Some grumbling, more swearing. “…need you in one piece…” She lost track of his words for a few moments as she concentrated on not bringing them both tumbling to the ground. Finally, they came to a clumsy halt as she felt the edge of a bed meet her knees. Her hands felt for a bedpost as she, even in her current state, quickly realized this was not her bed. She didn’t seem to mind, however, as hands guided her to sit. It was tempting to let herself fall backwards onto the mattress. It wasn’t as comfortable as the one she had at the estate, but it sure felt like bliss at the moment. However, her eyes were too busy trying to follow the other figure in the room as he moved about. He disappeared momentarily, then came back, pressing a cold glass into her hand. His own hand lingered around hers until it seemed unlikely she was going to drop the glass or perhaps throw its contents in his face, depending on her mood. “Drink, Hawke. Hell if I’m gonna let you put me out for the night, so we’re gonna get you sobered up enough to make it home, yeah? Andraste’s tits, I’m gonna hear it from Aveline tomorrow aren’t I?” 

She watched him rub at his forehead through the glass as she followed his advice and drank. It was only a few sips later that she paused, however, looking him over again. “I like your hands,” she blurted lamely, or had she only thought it? No, she’d definitely said it out loud by the look on his face. She thought she saw a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place, but by the time her mind caught up to her eyes it’d been replaced with his usual easy smirking expression. 

“Yeah? Me too. They’ve done me a lot of favors so far, have to say. Good for writing, drinking, handling Bianca here in just the right way.” He gestured to the crossbow sitting on the table next to him with a small pleased chuckle. “They also brought you that glass of water so you could drink it, not hold it as decoration next to your pretty eyes.” She huffed in response, taking another few large gulps from the glass until it was halfway emptied. Or full, but she wasn’t getting into that psychological babble right now. 

“So you think my eyes are pretty?” She asked, setting the glass down so she could make a point of batting her eyelashes at him. 

“Yes Hawke, your eyes are pretty, your hair is stunning and your ass is flawless. Happy?” She was beginning to feel more like a functioning person again, and that made his response all the better. 

She nodded, but couldn’t help milking it a bit more. “I’d be even happier if I got it in writing. You know, that being your strong suit ’n all.”

He gave no clear response to this, simply handing her the glass again. “You in a good enough state to reach Hightown now? I won’t be held responsible if you somehow end up in the docks trying to battle half the qunari compound.”

Downing the rest of the water, she put a hand up in dismissal of his concern. With her mind less muddled, stubborn instincts were taking over. “I can handle myself,” she insisted, moving to stand but this time thinking quickly enough to use the bedpost for support as she did so.

When the world didn’t immediately start spinning, she let out a breath in relief. Looking at him, she could tell he’d been bracing himself too. “Thank you for the uh, water.” For some odd reason, she almost hugged him then. Clearly not all the drink was out of her system. Instead she gave him a pat to the shoulder before turning to walk gracelessly out of the room.

—

She awoke the next morning with what felt like a hammer to the head and word from Orana that she’d received a letter. She found it placed on her bedside table, next to a much needed potion for the pounding head. Once she’d awoken fully and felt capable of actual reading, she opened the letter.

Hawke-

Your eyes are pretty, your hair is stunning, your ass is flawless.

Your heart is even better. 

\- V

P.S. Your hands aren’t bad either.


End file.
